The Familiars #4: Palace of Dreams by Adam Jay Epstein, Andrew Jacobson Page B

led them farther still, until they came to a well-worn dirt path. This was the Smuggler’s Trail. Hoof marks and dry leaves covered the road.
    “Let’s lie low for a few hours,” Skylar said. “Like I said, whoever comes looking for us won’t be able to find us here.”
    She gestured to an oak tree that provided ample cover. The Three walked beneath it and started to settle in. But just before Aldwyn got comfortable, he spied a gathering beyond the oak, one he hadn’t seen before. Humans, animals, and magical creatures of every kind crowded the grounds. Wooden shelters built into the tree trunks and tents made from old linens and tapestries encircled a campfire. Trolls and fairies sat side by side before the flames. A pair of tiny hippopotamuses were bartering with a slithering mound of moss.
    Skylar and Gilbert were now standing beside Aldwyn, staring at the sight.
    One of the fairies, who was broad-shouldered and bearded, flitted over and landed on a twig near Aldwyn’s face.
    “Welcome,” he said. “If you can see us, then you must be hiding from something as well. The Smuggler’s Den only reveals itself to those who wish not to be found. No one will ask you any questions about what you’re running away from here. And as long as you mean no harm to the others, you can stay as long as you like.”
    “We won’t be long,” Skylar said.
    “Well, if you’re hungry, we were just putting some coconut meat over the fire,” the fairy said.
    “We do have a big day ahead of us,” Skylar said.
    “Of course, you’ll have to contribute something in return,” the fairy said.
    “And what exactly did you have in mind?” Skylar asked.
    The familiars, with bellies filled, scrubbed a stack of pots and pans that stretched halfway up a tree, using wet rags and sticks to clean the grimy cookware. It seemed a fair trade-off, especially since they didn’t know where their next full meal was going to come from.
    Nearby a gold-backed baboon with a shackle still dangling from one of its wrists tended to the campfire, ensuring that the cooking flames would continue to burn until their next meal. He glanced over to Aldwyn, Skylar, and Gilbert.
    “Some of these people have been here so long they don’t recognize you,” the baboon said. “Not me. I’ve seen the statues they erected in Split River. I know it’s impolite to ask, but what are the Prophesized Three doing here?”
    “It’s just a big misunderstanding actually,” Skylar said.
    “Whatever it is, it must be pretty bad for you to be here,” the baboon replied.
    “No matter,” Skylar said. “It will all be righted soon.”
    “Righted, perhaps,” the baboon said. “But not forgotten. Accusations, whether they be true or false, are not washed out so easily. It takes more than truth to clean the stains that are left behind.”
    It was as if the baboon knew Aldwyn’s worst fear.
    “You can do a thousand good acts, but they’ll remember you for the one bad. Even if it’s just rumor and innuendo.”
    “That doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Aldwyn asked.
    “No, I suppose not,” the baboon replied.
    Aldwyn reflected on everything he and his friends had already been through. He wasn’t going to let one false accusation wipe away all the good they had done.
    “What about you?” Gilbert asked. “What’s with the shackle?”
    The baboon stoked the flames again.
    “I was taken from my family and sold into the service of the Cyrus Brothers Traveling Animal Show,” he said angrily. Aldwyn knew how hard it was to be separated from family. That’s why he was so eager to find Yeardley—once all this was over, of course. “They chained me up pretty tight, too. They wanted me to dance for peanuts. But I learned a few tricks from the troop’s master escapist, a land octopus who goes by the name Torgo. Thought I’d hide here for a few months.”
    The fairy returned when the washup was done.
    “Same deal goes for lunch,” he said.
    Aldwyn, Skylar, and